


Paper II

by ilse_writes



Series: Partners [7]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: A different point of view, Gavin is out of it for most of this story, M/M, New Scenes, RK900 is called Nines, Same Story, Upgraded Connor | RK900 Is Bad at Feelings, Upgraded Connor | RK900 Needs a Hug, Upgraded Connor | RK900 is confused by social protocols, change of perspective, fear of needles, police work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2019-08-31
Packaged: 2020-10-04 09:03:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20468477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilse_writes/pseuds/ilse_writes
Summary: This is the same story as Paper I, except now you read it from Nines' point of view. Also, there are some extra scenes in here and it gives some insight into Nines his psyche.





	Paper II

**Author's Note:**

> It took me a long time to write this one. I actually started this early july, but things got in the way and it was hard to determine how I wanted Nines' side of the story to go. Lots of writing and scrapping and writing again. I hope you like the end result!

Nines blames himself for not noticing earlier they have company. He is down by the loading dock, supposedly to review his reconstructions of the criminals’ supply route. They used this abandoned factory for at least a few weeks and after combing through hours of traffic footage he was able to link a nondescript grey van to this location. The van went to this location at least three times in the past three weeks, yet just like the criminals themselves it had vanished when the factory showed up in the DPD’s line of interest. To the RK900 the chances of there being a leak inside the force are high, yet that is something the human officers have trouble admitting to. It is simply human nature: every man has his flaws, some just have worse flaws then others. And despite being designed to be the perfect hunter, a ruthless killing machine, Nines has his flaws too. 

Gavin Reed is one of his flaws. Or rather, his fascination with the human. Right now, the detective is upstairs in the former break room of the factory, working his wonderful brain to try and make sense of their current case. Nines watched him for a few minutes, something he always likes to do when they are at a crime scene. Detective Reed has a lot of flaws, most of them having to do with his rather brash personality and a slight tendency to self-destruct. The way he goes about doing his job certainly isn’t one of those flaws. He may be rude, foul-mouthed and headstrong, he is a great detective. He puts the job first, often above his own well-being.

It is something Nines noticed early on in their partnership. It marveled him at first, because humans tend to be bad at ignoring their basic needs; yet here was detective Reed, going without proper nutrition and sufficient sleep just because he fixates on a case. The detective is pretty resilient, though his limits are not as high as he thinks they are. That’s where Nines comes in, gradually implementing a more healthy nutrition schedule into their work hours to improve the optimal working conditions for their partnership. In time it also improved their personal relationship and that is something that occupies the android’s processors more than he cares to admit. A recent development is that his partner shows up in spontaneous pre-constructions that have literally nothing to do with casework; they are mainly domestic in nature, confusing and alluring at the same time. 

Instead of running his reconstruction of the supply route at the crime scene, Nines sees the outlined figure of his partner scooping up the not-so-tiny-anymore kitten from the floor. He cradles the white cat against his chest with one hand, curling the fingers of the other on top of her head, scratching lightly. The outline of Gavin steps closer towards Nines, eyeing something that is in the android’s hand. His pre-construction self lifts his hand, presenting Gavin with a wooden spoon. His partner opens his mouth readily, tasting the food presented to him.

There are two intruders. One human, one android. The android is a male AP700 with light skin and blond hair; a domestic model from some years back. He doesn’t have a criminal record, though he does have a link with the DPD because he worked for the company that cleans the offices after hours. The human has a criminal record, with possession of Red Ice listed as most recent, along with two different gun charges. This one might be armed, warns the alert that pops up in the periphery of Nines’ vision.

His programming offers him multiple ways to take out the AP700, the word ‘deviant’ flashing in red in the alerts. There is nothing for the human, except the basic police procedures for apprehending a suspect. Harming a human in the line of his work is only permitted within very strict parameters and the same goes for androids nowadays. The programming CyberLife equipped him with doesn’t care about that and is still trying to root out all deviants. He removes the abhorrent pop ups, a routine gesture by now.

Nines sends a message to the detective’s phone and steps out in the sight of the intruders. “Halt! Detroit Police!”

They clearly thought that every police officer disappeared along with the holographic tape that previously closed the factory off for curious onlookers. The AP700’s LED immediately flashes red, showing his distress. Those domestic models aren’t made to handle this kind of stressful environments; the android clearly chose the wrong profession. The human is less impressed. He is indeed armed, pulling a handgun from the back of his pants. It’s an old FN FNS-9 compact semi auto pistol for which he doesn’t have a permit. He fires immediately, holding the gun in one hand and not aiming properly. The bullet buries itself in a concrete pillar behind Nines, he didn’t even have to dodge it.

The two suspects make a run for it and Nines has to choose which one to pursue. He goes for the gunman, leaving the unarmed android to his partner. Conveniently, the AP700 runs up the stairs towards the walkways, right to the level where detective Reed is. His partner is well trained: the embarrassment of being bested by his android colleague time and time again proved to be a great motivator to get better. Of course, the human’s attempts are futile when it comes to the RK-series; they are far more superior than humans in many physical aspects. However, the detective should be able to match the speed of the domestic android, if only for a short sprint. It should be enough. 

Nines pushes his legs in pursuit of the human suspect, closing in on him fast. He removes the gun from his hand before the man can fire again. In a few quick movements the suspects’ hands are behind his back, the android leaning down a little to recite his rights in the man’s ear. It’s unnecessarily intimidating, yet it makes the suspect pliant and after that it’s easy to cuff him. Nines fastens the cuffs around the lowest sport of a metal stairs that climbs up against the side of a large printing press; the low attachment ensures that the suspect can’t get up to his full height. He’ll have to stay seated, which is also the most comfortable position in case he’ll have to wait a while to be brought to the station.

The moment Nines secures his suspect, he hears the sounds of a struggle. There is a loud bang first, of two bodies slamming in the metal bannister of the walkway. The sounds echo around the almost empty factory room, making it a little harder to pinpoint the exact location of the struggle. Nines runs up the nearest stairs, hurrying to assist his partner. 

He is at least forty yards away when he sees it happen. The AP700 gets the vantage point and topples the detective headfirst over the rail. The floor is sixteen feet away, the percentages of surviving a fall like that are strikingly low. 

The detective’s hand shoots out in reflex, gripping a metal bar of the bannister, his body lurching from the shock. Nines is still 12.8 yards way when the hand slips.

_ “Gavin!!”  _

The stutter in his Thirium pump nearly makes him falter in his run, red alerts popping up all over his vision. With a loud clang Nines catches the bannister at the spot where Gavin disappeared. He looks down, dreading what he’ll see.

The unexpected relief does silly things to his knee joints and he has to lock them into place to keep them from buckling.

Gavin is lying on top of one of the giant paper rolls that were used for printing newspapers. He is sprawled out on his back, his left arm lying in a wrong angle. A preliminary scan suggests a dislocated shoulder. The limbs on his right side are dangling down the side of the roll, he is dangerously close to falling off. 

Nines doesn’t know if it’s lucky or unlucky that Gavin is still conscious. He is clearly out of it and most certainly not fully aware of his surroundings. If he rolls over to the wrong side...  
“Gavin! Don’t move!”   
His partner’s gaze locks in on Nines’ position, his head moving like he’s drunk. He doubts if Gavin can see him properly, but that doesn’t matter as long as he listens to his voice.  
“Stay still, Gavin! I’m coming!” 

“No!”   
The word is barely audible, yet Nines freezes anyway. He is ready to swing his leg over the bannister: jumping down is the fastest way to get to his partner.  
“Get… suspect.” Gavin coughs, unable to fill his lungs properly with air yet.

The suspect. The android that is now running towards the exit that leads to the roof. From there he has an 93% chance to find a way down and get away. The alerts about the suspect are warring with the ones that inform him about his partner’s status. Nines pushes the alerts about the perp down and focuses on his partner. “You’re hurt. You need help.” 

“Can wait,” Gavin grunts out. “Catch asshole first.”

“You’re hurt,” Nines states again, his brow furrowed. His LED is flashing red and the only thing keeping him from jumping down to Gavin is the man himself.

Gavin lets his eyes dart around and he blinks a couple of times. Pulling his right arm in doesn’t go effortless, though he does it anyway. The detective is nothing but tough, it speaks in his next words too. “I’m fine.”

The statement angers Nines. This is not the time to play it down. “You are most definitely not fine! You are in need of medical assistance.”

“Fine, I’m  _ not _ fine!” Gavin coughs again, his lungs still recuperating from the fall. “But I can wait until you catch that fucking waste of plastic first!”

Nines processes Gavin’s words at less than optimal speed.  _ Catch the fucking waste of plastic. _ Catch the android that hurt his partner. The LED on Nines’ temple spins furiously, first red and then turning yellow as he lets the objective of hunting deviants take over. His jaw sets and then he steps back over the railing. With one last look down at Gavin he turns and then he’s off. 

This is what he was made for. He can feel it buzzing through his artificial body. Excitement in fulfilling his main objective after pushing it down for so long. It shouldn’t feel this good, yet it undoubtedly does. Somewhere in the back is a small push note that says this is wrong, that he shouldn’t feel delight in the prospect of eliminating a deviant android. The thrill of the chase is stronger though, it takes Nines sprinting over the roof, down to the far end where his sensors have detected his prey. 

The AP700 has just started to climb down the fire escape ladder, only its head and shoulders are visible above the edge of the roof. Nines could pull his gun and shoot it with 100% accuracy, but where’s the fun in that?

With one last sprint he is at the roof’s edge and the skin of his hand is already retracting when he reaches down, movements so quick they’re almost a blur. His hand closes around the neck of the deviant android and a forced interface makes the perp’s motor functions cease within the second. With his superior force Nines lifts the limp android up by the neck and he tosses it behind him on the roof. 

The deviant android lies on its back on the tiled roof, LED burning red and eyes wide. Heavy rain falls down, flooding its eyes and nasal cavities. It still can’t control its arms and legs, internal systems battling against the temporary virus Nines uploaded. 

It’s just a simple domestic droid, no connections to New Jericho or anything that has to do with the android revolution. A revolution that is over, that had a pacifist ending and saw to it that androids and humans could live in peace together. Nines stills in his movements. The objective of eliminating all deviant androids is still visible, yet there are other information prompts asking for his attention. His job as a detective, his own deviancy, his constant battle against CyberLife’s initial programming. And his partner, Gavin. 

Nines knows better than to give in to the urge to damage the android in front of him; not beyond repair at least. He has to get back to Gavin quickly: his partner needs him. 

Towering above the android, he looks down at the pathetic form. His motor controls are returning slowly, causing his limbs to jerk in all directions. 

He reaches down, grabbing the android by the collar and dragging him along with him. Nines stops at the metal housing of an air conditioning unit. The space within doesn’t have the required dimensions, although the total volume is big enough to fit the AP700. The unnatural way he bends the body would be impossible for a human; the android will be fine, save for some minor obstructions in his Thirium lines because of the tight folding.

The RK900 finds Gavin in the exact same position as he left him. He even has some of his usual snark back, although his surprisingly honest answers to the question ‘where does it hurt?’ indicate that he is indeed in a lot of pain.

The detective’s shoulder needs to be relocated and Nines decides it’s best to do it quickly, even in these less than optimal conditions. Little did he know that he would end up with a lap full of Gavin. The shock of pain made him lurch upright and then double over, his forehead pressing against Nines’ thigh. The human heat of his skin seeps through the fabric of his dress pants.  
They hold each other in place: Gavin has a tight grip on the white Cyberlife jacket and Nines carefully supports his partner’s newly relocated shoulder. One wrong movement and it could dislocate again. That is not what occupies his processors though: it is the feeling of Gavin’s hair threading through his fingers. If Nines would search back in his logs he would find the small, but strong command that made him place his left hand on his partner’s head.   
Holding Gavin’s hand prior to this can be rationalized: it is perfectly professional conduct to comfort your work partner when he or she is in pain. Stroking his hair strays from said professional conduct into the territory of ‘casual touching’. Or beyond. Because there is nothing casual in this touch, not when it makes Nines’ receptors work overtime. He registers the smoothness and thickness of Gavin’s hair, the strands slightly damp with sweat. He shouldn’t indulge. He  _ can’t _ indulge. 

Gavin moves away on his own accord, before Nines prompts him. With his arm in a makeshift mitella and with help from Nines, the detective eventually has his feet on solid ground again.   
The RK900 makes him sit down, leaning against the giant paper roll. Gavin closes his eyes, his breathing measured to control his pain. Medical assistance and back up are close: Nines sends them directions to come in through the loading bay.

“What did you do with the perps?” Gavin’s question catches Nines off guard. It reminds him off the android he left in the air conditioning housing unit. He let Cyberlife take control. An odd emotion rolls through his systems, one he can identify with some difficulty as  _ shame _ . There’s also remorse for letting go like that.

Nines doesn’t get a chance to cover up his grave misbehaviour, or make up for it. Officer Chen, Gavin’s friend, insists he must accompany the detective to the hospital. 

The ride to the hospital is silent. The detective android has already conveyed all the necessary information to the medical androids through interface, so there is nothing for him to tell. Gavin isn’t in a talking mood either: he is concentrating on his breathing, a furrow in his brows. 

In the hospital Nines is allowed to stay by Gavin’s side the entire time, even though he isn’t a close relative.   
“We are gonna need you later,” says one of the human nurses cryptically, looking up from Gavin’s chart.

The doctor compliments him on the job he did on his partner’s shoulder. With time and rest it should heal just fine. A concussion is the worst of Gavin’s injuries, the rest is basically blunt force trauma which will make him ache all over the next day and the days after that.

His partner is tired and in pain, Nines has trouble to keep standing at the sidelines. Gavin’s stress level is slowly climbing again, after it first went down when the initial shock of everything that happened wore off. The detective is a stubborn man, whose pride prevents him from showing his discomfort. Yet he is in pain, very much so. 

“I’m gonna give you something to help with the pain. It’s strong and it should help you get the rest you need,” the doctor says, tapping on the tablet in his hands that displays Gavin’s medical records. 

One of the android nurses starts to prep something at her station. She has her back to Nines and he can’t see her hands, yet from Gavin’s reaction of suppressed panic and with officer Chen’s words in mind, he can imagine what she is doing.   
“Can’t you just give me some pills or something?” Gavin says to the doctor, his voice strained. 

The doctor shakes his head and stays immune for Gavin’s pleads and curses, his words growing more desperate when they have no effect. The detective wants to climb off the bed, but Nines is there already, a firm hand on his shoulder to keep him in place. He needs to place a second hand on Gavin’s hip to keep him on the bed and he angles his face in front of his partner. “Relax, Gavin. They only want to help you.”

“No!” Gavin strains against his hands. “I don’t… They… No!”

His breathing grows erratic and quickly gets to the point of hyperventilating. Gavin’s hands claw into Nines’ jacket, trying to find purchase but unable to hold on. A thin film of sweat covers the detective’s face, soon joined by the moist of tears spilling over.   
Gavin is in such a state of distress he doesn’t even notice that the nurse quickly works on, placing a firm hand on his thigh and piercing the thick muscle there with the needle. The prick gets through to Gavin’s brain and he tries to fight it off. His effort is to no avail, because Nines will not let his partner hurt himself or the medical staff. 

As soon as the nurse backs away with the needle, Nines gathers his partner more comfortable against his chest. With one arm around his shoulders, he uses the other one to rub soothing circles on his back. He counts the breaths for Gavin, minute after minute, until the man rests his head against the android's chest in exhausted defeat. 

The pain medication is strong and Gavin is tired from the whole ordeal; he is barely awake throughout the discharge from the hospital and the ride home. Taking Gavin from the car to his home proves to be a bit harder than Nines initially thought. Because of the man’s injuries and exhaustment, he needs to support the detective in his walking. Yet putting Gavin’s arm around his shoulders so he can lean on the android turns out to be very uncomfortable for his partner. The difference in height is more than what his battered body can handle right now. However, Gavin is in no shape to walk by himself; exhausted to the bone and spaced out on pain medication.

Nines doesn’t think twice about picking Gavin up bridal style: it is the most convenient and painless way to carry his partner up to his apartment. It isn’t until he meets their reflection in the mirror at the back of the elevator that his Thirium pump suddenly stutters once. He has Gavin cradled high against his chest, to prevent his head from lolling back uncomfortably. The human’s face is pressed against the stiff collar of his jacket and unexpectedly Nines wonders how it would feel if there weren’t any barriers between Gavin’s face and the artificial skin of his neck. The android catches his own eyes in the mirror, the optical units wide and uncertain, and quickly turns away from the mirror.

He is still cleaning up the software instabilities when he reaches Gavin’s flat, quickly interfacing with the electronic lock to open it. He comes here often enough that Gavin gave him the code, saying he was tired of getting up from the couch to open the door for him every time he came to visit Tiny. Not that Gavin was sitting on the couch every time Nines stopped by; sometimes he sat at his kitchen table, or he was out on his balcony for a smoke. One time he was in the shower, his still slightly damp skin and wet hair doing funny things to Nines’ scanners when he emerged from his bedroom - casually dressed in joggers and a sweatshirt. But most often Nines went home with Gavin straight from work and he would cook while the detective sat back in a kitchen chair and scrolled through his phone. 

The android is careful not to come around too often, aware of social protocols he doesn’t understand for one bit. It’s not like there is one, clear set of rules. Rules considering social interactions appear to differ from country to country, from decade to decade and even from person to person. When it comes to interacting with his partner outside work hours, Nines can only try and navigate the verbal and nonverbal cues Gavin gives him. So far, he has established a visiting schedule of three times a week, with a randomly thrown in fourth visit every three to four weeks. This visitation rate prevents unpleasant remarks from Gavin about ‘the tin can being overbearing’, yet it also stays ahead of accusations about his apparent ‘lack of interest for his own damn cat’. 

With visits to Hank and Connor’s house once or twice a week - alternating at a random pattern - it still leaves too many nights of staring at the white walls of his own apartment. At least at the lieutenant’s house there is Sumo to distract him, even when the dog is asleep. Nines has counted the whiskers on his snout 37 times already and he will do it again, because the amount of whiskers is not always the same. The lieutenant and Connor provide him with their own form of pastime, as does Gavin; though Gavin is less demanding than Connor. The human is content to just sit and watch tv with him, much like Hank, although the lieutenant prefers to watch sports and that makes his pre construction software go haywire if he isn’t careful. And his android sibling always wants to talk about something, _anything_. It’s one of the reasons Nines prefers visiting his partner’s home. The cats are nice too: Sid is about as immobile as the Saint Bernard at his brother’s house, yet Tiny is a lot more lively. It is fun to watch her chase the bright feather on a flexible stick, or look at her wrangling a toy mouse in her paws. 

Nines has to avoid tripping over the white feline as he steps inside with Gavin in his arms; oblivious or indifferent to his precious cargo Tiny weaves her supple body around his ankles.   
“I’ll be with you shortly,” Nines promises her, making his way to Gavin’s bedroom. 

The detective wakes up a little, becoming aware of his surroundings. “Put me down,” he mumbles, squirming and groaning in Nines’ arms. 

The android lowers him to the bed and proceeds to take off Gavin’s shoes. His partner rolls over on his side and tries to push himself up, mumbling something incoherent. When he’s upright he shrugs out of his open hoodie, the painful movements scrunching up his face.

Nines takes the garment from him, instructing him to lie down again. “You need to rest.”

“I need a beer,” Gavin answers defiantly, although he already slumps back against the mattress. Nines gently helps him to find a comfortable position, the detective’s eyes falling shut again. 

Whether or not to undress his partner any further, is a question that needs some thinking. Nines decides to get the hospital issued plastic bag with Gavin’s leather jacket and his holster and gun from the car first and he also feeds and pets the cats before entering the dark bedroom again. The detective is still lying in the position he left him in, on his back, on top of the covers. 

His shoes are neatly positioned next to the bed and his hoodie is folded up on top of the dresser. However, Gavin is still wearing his jeans, socks and a T-shirt. Nines knows for a fact the detective doesn’t sleep with his pants on, nor his socks. Removing them, especially in his own bedroom, seems like an intimate act. It crosses a line, somewhere, somehow. It’s another one of those complex social situations that continue to baffle Nines in the most unpleasant way. On the one hand he doesn’t want his partner to feel awkward or even violated and the detective is hardly coherent enough to give his consent at the moment. On the other hand there is a high probability that this isn’t the most comfortable outfit to sleep in and Gavin is lying on top of the blankets instead of underneath them. He’s not an android, he will get cold during the night. 

In the end, Nines gathers more data in favour of removing the detective’s day clothes than against it. Gavin wakes up when Nines is removing his pants leg from his ankle, a shiver running over his body. “I’m cold,” he says.

In silence, Nines helps him to shimmy under the covers and pulls them up to his chin. “Good night, Gavin.”

“You’re like a blue nightlight,” Gavin whispers, blinking up at his android partner with heavy eyelids. The blue of Nines’ LED chases away some of the darkness in the room, tinting everything in the direct vicinity with the calm colour. Having a nightlight seems to have some pleasant connotation for the detective, as he smiles weakly before his eyes fall shut again. 

Wikipedia classifies a nightlight as ‘a small light fixture, placed for comfort or convenience in dark areas’. Nines wants nothing more than to give his partner comfort. If he had noticed the perps earlier, Gavin wouldn’t have gotten hurt. 

The android sets an internal alarm to wake his partner up at regular intervals during the night, standard procedure for concussions. It’s an injury that will give the human a lot of discomfort before it heals, same goes for his dislocated shoulder and his many bruises. Nines knows he should feel guilty about his treatment of the android suspect this afternoon, yet he can’t seem to access the proper sentiment when he looks at his partner. The AP700 hurt Gavin, because Nines wasn’t paying proper attention to his surroundings. 

A failure.

One with dire consequences.

He failed his partner. 

Now he has to make up for that.

**Author's Note:**

> I'd love to hear from you! I thrive on comments and feedback.


End file.
